


Consequences

by Robin_P



Category: Casper (1995)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Dark Magic, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Police, Possession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_P/pseuds/Robin_P
Summary: James Harvey died. James Harvey is still alive.Someone has questions, and the Town of Friendship knows a lot more than they're letting on.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on a crazy ride here, so please enjoy the sanity while it lasts.

Against all expectations, the next morning dawned bright and early, much to the many groans of the residents.

Kat had snuck into her father's room during the night, just to check he was still breathing. (She wasn't the only one, but the others hadn't lingered)

Hearing her father's heartbeat was very calming.

The doorbell was anything but.

Neither was the screams and yelling.

James Harvey groaned, a snarky park of his mind wondering how he had a hangover, it wasn't like he was entirely foolish and got drunk with his patients last night. No, not the esteemed Doctor Harvey.

The doorbell rang again.

He sighed, and hauled himself out of the bed, adjusting the blankets to tuck Kat back in and threw on his dressing robe, since no one else was going to answer the door.

Kat muttered something unintelligible and possibly unspeakable, pulling a pillow over her head and settling into his warm spot.

He took a moment to breathe, only for the doorbell to scream again.

There was a police officer at his door. He blinked. Oh. Consequences.

"Doctor Harvey?" The police officer asked, his voice flatly serious and his partner looming behind him.

"Yes. Can I help you officer?" And why haven't the ghosts driven you off yet?

"Ah. Sir. You need to come down to the station with us" The officer cleared his throat. "There's a dead body. We thought it was yours."

James blinked. Consequences. Damn it.

"I'm afraid I'm very much alive and regretting it." James rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Between the hangover and cleaning up my daughter's party last night…" he shrugged.

The officer frowned. "There was achohol at your daughter's party?" 

He snorted, "No, my daughter decided to hold a party while I was out with some old friends. Halloween plus haunted house apparently equals party in a teenagers mind."

"Ah." The officer tried to sound understanding, failing. He glanced at his partner.

"Mr Harvey, is there anyone you could call to stay with your daughter?" The other officer was older, built like a brick wall and a complexion to match. Too much to drink, or...?

Harvey stared at him blankly. 

"Your friends, perhaps? The ones you were out drinking with last night."

"You want the trio to babysit." Harvey said, trying to wrap his head around the concept. Hell no came to mind. He wondered if anyone was watching, because they wasn't interrupting. 

"If you don't have anyone you trust to be responsible, your daughter will need to come down to the station with us." The first officer said.

"I don't understand... am I being arrested?"

"We just want to ask some questions sir. We have two dead bodies on our hands, and everything points to you being one of them."

James raised an eyebrow, "I'm being arrested for not being dead?"

Another shared look.

"That's for the lead investigator to say sir."

Harvey rubbed his forehead, wondering if things would make more sense without the hangover. 

"May I get dressed first?" He asked, and the officers shared another look, an entire conversation taking place before one nodded and the brick wall gestured for him to go ahead.

They followed him in.

"Kat!" He yelled up the stairs, "Get dressed, we have visitors"

There's a scramble of footsteps, and a thundering as she stomped down the stairs, already dressed and looking like she stepped in something foul.

She's glaring at the police, and the smile that greets them is more a baring of teeth than welcoming.

"Bucket, please behave for the police, I'm going to get changed," there was no way he was going to the police station in his flannels willingly, "and then we're going with the nice men to answer some questions." He's not sure he's hitting the right notes, but Kat is looking slightly less likely to start biting.

"5 minutes Mr Harvey, understand?"

He rushes through his morning routine, tossing on the cleanest pair of pants he owns and a purple striped dress shirt that's been lingering at the bottom of his suitcase.

There's no sign of the ghostly trio, which worries him, but Casper is lurking above the stairs watching Kat and the police, hidden from sight from those down below, and clearly worried.

Harvey gives him a smile, but it must look more like a grimace. 

"Want me to scare them off?" Casper whispers, poking his fingers together. 

Harvey shakes his head, "Looks like Kat is doing a good enough job of it." He whispers back and the adoring smile he gets in returns reminds him he's going to have to talk to Kat about dating and to see if she's caught onto Casper's feelings yet.

The brick wall notices him coming down the stairs, but the younger officer is struggling with Kat, her glower of doom, crossed arms and tapping foot.

Not a happy teenager. 

"So what would have happened if my Dad wasn't here?" She demands, and he stumbles, grabbing the hand rail.

He almost wasn't. He...

Isn't ready to start processing that stuff yet. Later. There's going to be a later. He shuts the door on that terrifying thought. 

He feels like a right state, and must look it too. Given the way the younger officer is staring at him, he's noticed his little mishap on the stairs.

They were going to take Kat.

They came here to take Kat.

They thought he was dead.

He almost giggles. The thought gets shoved behind that door. Later James, later.

Police first. 

He stepped next to Kat, flinging an arm around her, and she leans into his side.

She's alive. He's alive. 

That's enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's someone's birthday today, I thought I would post earlier than planned.

"Kat! Wake up! There's police at the door!"

Shit!

She had heard the doorbell, but it hadn't seemed important, not when she knew her dad was there.

Casper's hands were cold!

Her heart is skipping it's pounding so fast, and she falls out of the bed. Dad's room. She's in dad's room.

Get dressed. Hurry.

What if they take Dad away?

She layers up, the house is cold, and her head is banging. How early is it?

Boots. She grabs the best pair of boots she owns, in case she needs to kick someone.

She's angry. 

It warms her, so she wraps it around her like a blanket. 

What do they want?

She stomps downstairs, her Dad looks pale. She narrows her eyes at the Policemen.

"Why are you here?" She demands as soon as she's sure her Dad is out of earshot. 

"It was reported your father was dead." The stupid looking one said. He looks miserable. He probably doesn't want to be up this early on a Sunday either.

Good. If she has to suffer, she wants him to suffer.

"He's not dead." She checked last night. Heartbeat and everything. 

"He still needs to come down to the station." The stupid one says. "Our boss will have questions."

That's suspicious. She doesn't trust him. "Why? He's here. He's alive. You can see that."

"The situation is complicated." The stupid one tries, he's talking like he thinks she's a little kid. She can't believe this guy.

"No it isn't. Someone said my dad was dead. He's not. End of story." She's tapping her foot. This guy deserves to get stomped on.

The stupid one gives pleading eyes to his partner, who looks as unamused as Kat feels.

"There's a dead body. The ID found on the body identifies it as Doctor James Harvey."

Kat stills. Her dad died. There's a body. The Lazarus machine didn't fix everything. 

Luckily her shocked face doesn't raise any comments. It takes her a moment to recover.

"So what would have happened if my Dad wasn't here?" She demands, what would have happened if the Lazarus machine hadn't worked? She needs to know. 

There's a noise behind her, on the stairs. She looks, her dad looks like he's seen a ghost. Or rather, he looks like a normal person that saw a ghost, her dad doesn't exactly react normally to ghosts.

He looks so fragile, she's almost afraid to touch him, but he comes and puts an arm around her. It's safe enough to lean on him. He's here. He's real.

\---  
The whole day is made up of hurry up and wait. Hurried to the station. Wait. Hurried to an office. Wait. Tossed at some random lady. Wait some more.

The whole day feels like a blur. She just wants to go home, where ever home might be, with her dad.

Breakfast is a jelly donut and piece of fruit cake. Kat is pretty sure whoever made the fruit cake must be magic, because it's the best cake she's had all year.

She's not going to tell them that, she's just going to sneak another slice or two in her hoodie for later.

She thinks she's gotten away without anyone noticing, but as she's leaving the waiting room the desk sergeant gives her a banana. "You can't live on cake kid."

She might not be able to live on cake, but a glass of water might be nice.

Officer Stupid face leads her to a tiny room, more a closet than anything, with a desk piled high with folders, and a harried looking man scowling at the reports.

"Sit." He waves at the sole chair in the room, she half expects Officer Stupid to close the door, but he leaves it open and stands outside.

"Miss Kathleen Harvey. Daughter of Doctor James Harvey. Fourteen years old. No known relatives except her father. Too new to town to have any trusted friends yet, I suppose?" He rattles off the information so fast it takes a moment for her to realise that the last bit was a question. 

"Just the one." Kat shrugged, "but you're not going to let me stay with him anyway."

He looked at her, Kat stared back, refusing to be intimidated. 

"You aren't going into the system." He said with a small noise of approval. "We have a temporary caretaker available for these situations."

"What is this situation?" Kat asked.

He snorted. "Complicated. Like everything involving Whipstaff. Your father is a suspect in the ongoing investigation. We are also taking precautions in case the murderer missed his target."

"So how do you know I'm not going in the system?" It seemed a reasonable question. 

"Putting a possibly target in the system is irresponsible. Officer Jensen, please escort Miss Harvey to Cindy Meyer. She is expecting you."  
\---  
Cindy Meyer is not what Kat expects. 

She doesn't know what she expected, but Cindy (as she insists) is wearing a fuzzy jumper, and has a layer of cat hair on her jeans. 

"I hope you're not allergic to cats, but I keep them out of your room. You can always open a window."

The room is a small single, with a desk and wardrobe. There's a knitted blanket on top the bed, the colours a bright mishmash that shouldn't look good together in a chevron pattern.

There's pens and paper on the desk, and a notebook in the drawer, a towel laid out on the bed like it's a hotel.

Lunch is soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. 

Kat pokes around the house a little more. There's a tower of plastic boxes in the sitting room that just looks like yarn, or yarn being turned into things. A stack of magazines about birds and needlework. 

She catches sight of a little fairy, painted on the wall, peeking out from behind the bookcase. There's other little pieces of art on the walls, usually birds or cats, but there's a surprise dragon curled up over the bedroom window, hidden behind the curtains. 

It's a distraction, she knows, she doesn't want to think about other stuff.

Casper pokes his head in just before dinner.

"Hey?"

It feels just as awkward as it sounds. Lying on the bed gives her a different angle. She thinks there's something painted on the ceiling. Grey on white, she can't quite work out what it's meant to be.

"Do you think my Dad's okay?" She asks. She doesn't want to know, but she has to ask.

Casper shrugs, "They're asking a lot of questions. My uncles are watching."

Kat doesn't know if to feel relieved or not. "I don't want to lose him."

"You won't!" He insists, "Uncle Fatso is planning the road trip already, for when they break him out. Have you ever been to Niagara Falls? Uncle Stretch wants to play the casinos, and they'll probably push me over the falls in a barrel."

Kat giggles. "Thank Cas, for trying to cheer me up."

"Anytime."

Her smile falters. "Cas, why didn't your uncles scare away the police? I mean if they're planning on breaking Dad out of jail..."

Casper shrugged. "O'Reilly doesn't scare. Uncle Stretch says he's no fun at all, can't even get him to blink most days."

"Kathleen! Dinner! And bring your friend down." Cindy is a lot louder than Kat expected. They share a look, and Casper ducks his head.

"I guess she knows I'm here?"

There's three places set at the table, but Casper hesitates on the stairs while Cindy sets the meatballs down. 

"Dig in kiddos, you must be starving."

"Um..." Kat glances back at Casper. 

Casper looks like he's going to fly out the window any second. Or maybe through a wall. The stairway closet has a lot of potential. 

Cindy looks up, her eyes seem suspiciously bright.

"I've haven't had Casper to dinner since before I was your age. Mother always had to put the best piece of meat on his plate."

"You know Casper?"

"Cindy....?"

"Just since I was knee high to a grasshopper, then father got in a fight with those Uncles of his, and we never saw Casper again."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch is not a happy ghost.

Stretch was restless. He couldn't seem to sleep, and the thought of resting his eyes had bees buzzing under his skin.

Amelia had thanked him.

The Doc had been so happy.

Casper got his dance.

Kat got her dad back.

So what did Stretch get?

His new buddy was a fleshie again. 

And it wasn't like he could just kill the doc again, chances were knowing his wife had passed over would have settled any unfinished business the doc had.

So he may have checked the doc was still there.

Then checked Casper, who wasn't in his bedroom, but then neither was the girl. It took a bit to find Casper, hugging his train and snoring, a little 'choo choo choo' that always grated against Stretch's nerves.

Then he had to drop Casper in his actual bed, which meant removing him from the train, which took a good few minutes. The little guy was slippery when he was sleeping.

Stretch didn't stick around to watch, he was just checking out the view. Casper turned over and started hugging the pillow, murmuring soft words. He didn't wake up, even with Stretch glaring at him. 

Fatso and Stinkie had at least made it to their room, if not their actual beds. The pair of them tended to drift in their sleep, and were making lazy circles of the room.

It was too much effort to stop them, or tidy up after them, so Stretch retreated to the roof.

He needed time to think anyway. 

Why did the doc have to go and do that anyway? The kid would have been fine. Sure it wouldn't have been the doc looking after her, but he hadn't been doing that great a job of it anyway.

Kids. So emotional. Fun to poke through. 

Two of them now. Twice the trouble. 

What did the doc want? 

There had to be something to make him stick around. 

Open up a little? Stretch chuckled to himself, he could probably give the doc a few crumbs. Keep him coming back for more.

Wouldn't be enough to keep him, but might give him the time to come up with a plan.

The sky had lightened and Stretch still hadn't decided, when he noticed the familiar panda car approaching the manor.

Damn it, what was O'Reilly doing here? He wasn't in the mood for this. 

He dived back into the house, straight to his room to grab his brothers before it was too late.

They were already at the window. 

"Hey Stretch! It's your pretty boy!" 

"Think he wants another date with the horses?"

Elbow jab, "Bet he wants you to rig the race again."

"Or take you out for a wild ride?"

The twin smirks sparked a light in his chest. 

"Stretch? Buddy?" 

He was going to kill them. Again. 

Deep breath.

"Five. Four." Their share worried looks. 

"Come on, it's just a joke?" Stinkie tries, Fatso is considering exit strategies.

"Three. Two." They cringe.

"Come on Fearless, can't you take a joke?"

"One." It's all the warning they deserve. 

Stinkie turns tail and runs. Not fast enough. 

Stretch tackles him and they tumble through the pipes, the copper deforming nicely around Stinkie's head. If it was a cartoon there would be little birds or stars floating around his head, as Stretch drags him by the tail.

Fatso is even slower, only got as far as the attic.

He throws Stinkie at Fatso, the pair screaming, Stretch smiling as he tosses them one way then another.

It's a simple chase, Stretch has the upper hand and he isn't going to let them forget it. They end up halfway out to sea before Stretch thinks they've learned today's lesson.

It's a fun distraction, but it's just a distraction. 

Even if Fatso and Stinkie makes interesting faces when being nibbled on by fish.

There's still the problem with the doc. How do you make someone want to stay?

It's a shame he can't just lock him up in the basement.

Well he could, but the Doc wouldn't be happy about it. Not at first. Casper might object. Not that he's going to listen to Casper, but the kid can get so whiny.

There's only so many flat tires you can give a guy before he starts taking the bus.

Fatso and Stinkie are rightfully cowed, as Stretch drags them back to Whipstaff. He might just drag them every where by their tails, it makes for a quieter morning.

The doc is gone.

"Find the doc." He orders, Fatso and Stinkie whiz around the manor like the annoyances they are.

Not in his room, not in any of the rooms.

The girl is gone too.

But not their stuff? 

Not their car, not their stuff, and there's a missing Casper too.

"Where are they?" Stretch growls.

"Maybe your pretty boy took them?" Fatso offers. Stretch glares, he used to get more respect. 

"Police station." Stretch snaps. "Don't get seen." As he vanishes from sight.

If O'Reilly has taken his doc, he's going to get the worst run of luck, all of the suffering and hardship Stretch can pour on a guy.

\---

Casper is at the police station, because of fucking course he is.

At least the kid is learning. He's taken the rule, and decided don't go here means don't be seen. 

It's almost enough to make an uncle proud. A little more sneakiness is good for the kid. 

He doesn't need the babble about the doc being arrested. He just got rid of one annoying fleshie, now he has to deal with this?

It's just one thing after another these days. 

So. Dead body at bottom of cliff. Dead body at the bar. (That was a stupid oversight) Doc arrested. Kitty Kat sulking...

Damn it, he's going to have to check out all of it, and he's going to miss something. He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"Fatso. Cliff. Make sure the fleshies don't miss anything." He orders.

Fatso looks nervous, "What if she's still around?"

"She's gone. Me and Kat got her." Casper sounds so proud. Huh. Maybe the girl is good for him.

"Good work short sheet." Stretch flicks a finger at Fatso, "Happy?"

Fatso grins, "the rest of you?"

"Stinkie gets the bar. Make sure there's nothing of the doc's left. Might be too late, but we'll deal with it later."

Stinkie gives him a lazy salute. "Aye aye Fearless."

"Casper, watch your girl. We want to know where she ends up. The doc is going to want to know."

"On it!" Casper grins, and goes to fly off. Stretch grabs him.

"Don't be seen." He shakes the kid.

Casper blushes, and fades out. Stretch drops him, and he's ninty percent sure Casper immediately flew off to go stare at the girl again.

"And what will you be doing?" Stinkie asks.

"Shaking down my sources, see what they're trying to pin on the doc." Stretch grins, "afterall, we should be able to make this all just disappear."

He's getting his doc back. The fleshies don't stand a chance. The doc is his.

He'll work out how to keep him later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The police think he's crazy. His lawyer thinks he's crazy. He knows he's crazy.

The police aren't happy.

That's fine. James isn't happy either, but he's not talking until he has his lawyer.

He's not guilty, but he's not giving up his rights. It's not like the police care he's innocent, he knows he has no friends here.

He's not going to risk losing Kat.

_Not again._

So he waits. The police ask questions. James remains silent.

Eventually, the lawyer shows up, and they have a private word.

Or at least as private as you get inside a police station. It takes all of two seconds for James to realise that his lawyer doesn't believe in ghosts.

This is going to be a disaster. 

The police ask their questions again.

They don't like the answers. They don't like him. That's fine. The worse already happened. Just because it got fixed, doesn't mean it didn't happen.

He doesn't lie. But he doesn't say everything. He tries to walk the line of saying just enough.

They want to know about his friends, and he doesn't know what's worse to tell them, he was drinking with a trio of ghosts, or that he went drinking with three of his patients because he doesn't actually have any friends left.

He can't exactly give their contact details, or names, surely they aren't called that? Oh, friends of his dead wife? That might explain things...

They want to know what he's doing in Friendship, and he tells them he's hunting ghosts, the lawyer is amused, but the police are serious.

Explaining about his book, about the people he helped, about his journey to accept his wife's death...

They won't tell him about Kat. She's safe. They don't know Kat.

He keeps seeing Kat's face. How it looked. How it glowed. The tears in her eyes.

James really wished he could put Doctor Harvey in a locked box, he knows he's traumatised, he knows he's a little bit broken, but this isn't the place to unpack all that.

The police think he's crazy. His lawyer thinks he's crazy. He knows he's crazy, between the grief and the trauma he has every right to be crazy, but he can pretend to be a sane member of society for Kat.

He wishes Amelia was here.

It all blurs together until he's not entirely sure what he told them, he's just tired and empty.

They put him in a cell and he wonders how long they can hold him.

He lies on the uncomfortable bed and stares at the ceiling.

The ceiling winks at him.

Stinkie slinks down the wall, and then drapes himself over the bed, looking like a cat who got all the cream.

After the last few hours of controlling himself the words want to bubble out, there's an impulse to cling to Stinkie and just... why not?

It's too much effort to fling himself at the ghost, not when chances are Stinkie will let him fall.

Instead he sits up on the bed, letting Stinkie sprawl out on the other end, not that the ghost needs the invitation.

It's not safe. He's in a jail cell. Someone is going to be watching, and they're definitely listening, and he...

"So, doc. Want us to break you out?" Stinkie asks, and as much as he wants to say yes...

"Can't risk losing Kat." He whispers, hoping that the camera is at his back. They already think he's crazy, talking to himself might just get him locked up. 

Stinkie shrugs, "Figured. Your girl's fine. She's other side of town, the lady looking after her is a crazy cat lady, but Casper is sticking close just in case something happens."

It's an unexpected kindness. The police wouldn't tell him what happened to Kat. She's safe.

"Kitty's all kinds of grumpy, but we promised to keep an eye on you so she didn't go haring off and do something stupid... again."

Harvey blinks at the wall. Because this is strange. He wasn't expecting...

He examines Stinkie.

Nothing in his experience with the trio suggested...

They went and got Amelia for him.

Stinkie is examining his hand with all the intensity of a deer caught in headlights, and seems about as relaxed. While his body language suggests carelessness, there's a tension, a watchfulness.

He almost laughs. There's so many things he wants to ask, he wishes he could just stop for ten minutes, but Doctor Harvey is too ingrained.

He closes his eyes and wishes for a drink. It made everything easier, until it got worse. He doesn't think he's going to drink for a while. He needs a drinking buddy he trusts...

He died. There's a body. He can't tell the police. Telling millions of people he believes in ghosts is one thing. Telling the police he died and his daughter used a machine to bring him back to life...?

It doesn't matter. The truth is crazy.

"Hey doc?"

"I don't know how to get out of this" Harvey says quietly, resting his head against the wall.

Stinkie snorts. "Fleshies." Barely hidden contempt.

Harvey sighs. It was easier when he was a ghost. This weird friendship isn't going to last. Eventually the trio will move on, and then what?

Great going Doctor Harvey, catch 22, fix your patients and lose your friends, or keep your friends and fail your patients.

Or both. Both would be bad. It's not like he's any good at keeping friends.

"What's the worse that could happen? You get convicted of murder, and we grab you and go on a road trip?"

"Is that before or after they execute me?"

Stinkie acts like he's been shot. Hand to his chest and falling backwards off the bed and through the floor..

Harvey wonders if the camera can pick up ghosts. He doesn't know. He should have thought of that before. Would the trio let him? 

"Fine doc," Stinkie's head pops back through the wall, "I'll let myself out" There's a raspberry and Stinkie is gone.

If not for the smell Harvey would wonder if he was really there.

He goes back to staring at the ceiling.

At least he knows Kat is okay.

...and the ghostly trio is planning a breakout. Well. That should be interesting.

Weird friendship.

He's not sure how he feels about the best friends he's ever had being ghosts. He's sure there must have been a better friend in his history somewhere. 

It probably doesn't matter. They aren't going to post bail.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneaky Stretch gets caught out.

Sneaking into the Police Station is easy, for the most part. Stretch doesn't like doing it, he doesn't want to be here. He's going to be quick, in, out, don't linger.

At least it's a Sunday, and the cells are pretty empty, Doc has one all to himself. There's a few drunks, a couple of cops manning the desk, even fewer desk jockeys. 

O'Reilly's office is where it always is, but the man himself isn't in it. Stretch helps himself to the case file.

Which is empty. There's a few blank pieces of paper in it. Stretch glares. It's been hours and they have nothing? 

He drops the file and heads to the evidence locker. They must have something. 

There's no one guarding the locker, but it's bad habits that get you caught, so he's invisible as he lifts the register, sliding it along the wall until it's out of sight from anyone walking by.

Fingerprints on a microphone. Confirmed match with the dead body. Expected.

More lifted fingerprints, some matching the dead body. Most too smeared to get a good read. Also expected. Not like he or his brothers can leave prints, and a little bit of ectoplasma here and there isn't going to hurt anyone.

A recently fired rifle. Oh. Oops?

Broken bottle. Well that's not...

Pool cue thrown with enough force to jam it into a wall. Huh.

Well that might, just maybe, paint a picture. 

He needs to talk to O'Reilly. Damn it. 

"Mr McFadden." Stretch looks up, and casually slides the registry along the wall. "What have I told you about going into the evidence locker?" 

"That if there's anything good in there, I can bid on it like everyone else at the police auction?" Stretch rises to his full height, watching the book out of the corner of his eye, keeping most of his attention on O'Reilly. 

Almost there...

"And...?"

"If you caught me in there again you'd make sure Jerry Springer is never seen in Maine again?" Stretch's face falls as O'Reilly grabs the book just before it lands back in it's proper place.

Damn it.

"So. James Harvey. What's the interest?" O'Reilly asks, flipping to the page Stretch was on. How does it do that? Every single time.

"He's my doc." Stretch crosses his arms. 

"You're seeing a head shrink?" There's not an inch of surprise in O'Reilly's voice. Damn it, does nothing rattle this man? "How's that working out for you?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

A raised eyebrow. "He must be good." O'Reilly sets the book down, "My office. Now. Don't. Touch. Anything."

Stretch rolls his eyes, grumbles all the way, but heads back to O'Reilly's office. He's not kept waiting long, it's almost like O'Reilly doesn't trust Stretch. 

"I want your statement McFadden." O'Reilly declares as soon as he enters the door. "Something doesn't add up, and you're holding the missing pieces."

Stretch sighs heavily. "What's in it for me? Not like my statement is going to hold up."

They stare at each other. Stretch isn't going to bend on this. O'Reilly knows he can't use Stretch as a witness.

"Do you want your Doc back or not?" O'Reilly doesn't give away a thing.

"Fine. We took the doc to the bar. We got him drunk. Things got out of hand. The Doc fell down the hole. We took him home with us."

"Want to tell me why you fired a rifle in the bar?"

"It wasn't me?"

"Mr McFadden."

"Stinkie dropped the rifle, and it went off. It didn't hit anyone." Stretch growled.

"And the forth ghost seen with you and your brothers?"

"Casper dealt with him. Same with the crazy lady."

"Thank God for that." He crosses himself, and Stretch imagines he can see a wisp of a prayer rising up. And just like that, the mask drops. "Tony sends his love, he's claiming on the insurance, promises to send something real nice in the next care package."

Stretch grins, "Proper Moonshine this time?"

"Strong enough to kill you, if you wasn't already enjoying the after." O'Reilly places his hand on his chest. "I've been told not to touch a drop of the stuff or he'll have my head."

Stretch relaxes, glad the interrogation is over. "What's up with the empty file?"

O'Reilly grabs it, "You, my impatient friend, were five minutes too early." He tosses it over. "There's your copy. The demon machine was chewing paper again."

Stretch flips it open, reading the statements. Huh. Tony's alright sometimes. Bribed the bartender. Wait.

"If you knew the blighter fell, why the hell did you arrest the doc?" He yells, waving the statement. 

O'Reilly rolls his eyes. "Think about it. A drunk's testimony isn't going to hold up, not when he's seeing things. And the blighter had all the doc's ID, must have been a decent pick pocket for you not to notice."

Oh. He goes back to reading the file. It might be an interesting read, if he wasn't worrying about the Doc. O'Reilly included his personal notes, but Stretch skips over those, he doesn't care right now about how he and his brothers are leaving traces.

"So. You're letting him go?" Stretch asks, setting the file down. There's nothing there they can hold the doc on.

"The mayor wants to make an example out of him." 

And just like that the bottom falls out. Back to the break out plan. The kids are just going to have to deal.

The lights flicker.

"The doc's lawyer is a little weasel. Johnson wants the case. Care to scare the useless brat off?" O'Reilly offers.

"Johnson?" Stretch frowns, the name a complete blank.

"The mayor's ex. He's biting at the bit. Knows enough about you that he's not going to throw a hissy fit over anything weird." O'Reilly fills in. "Slimey waste of space most of the time, but he's good at his job."

Stretch nods slowly, "I'll think about it. Anything else?"

"The Carp wants their windows rattled next week, think you can fit it into your busy schedule?"

Stretch snickers, "I'll see what I can do."

He slinks out the office, mind buzzing. Politics. He hates politics. 

Maybe it's time he paid the mayor a visit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, the local Bakery is occasionally haunted

The Mayor's office is empty, it takes all of five minutes to completely trash the place. Stretch didn't need the back up, but his brothers needed something to do, and trashing city hall seemed like a great start to the night. 

Finding the Mayor's house takes a bit more work.

He should have just asked O'Reilly. 

They could trash every high end house in town, but his rage has a target, and he wants that target to know.

Armed with a pile of photos, a car registration number and an ability to float through walls, they set out to find the Mayor.

There's probably a better way, but her address isn't on file, she's just referred to as M.M. in the office memos, and the three of them haven't paid attention to the local elections (other than to crash the party) in decades.

It was a bit of a shock to realise M.M. refers to a woman, since when did women get to be Mayor? Stretch just thought the fleshies had sorted the whole queer marriage debacle out, finally. 

Sure, O'Reilly normally tells him that sort of thing, but a Gay Mayor seemed more likely than a female Mayor last time he paid any attention to politics. 

Stupid fleshies.

Anyway. The Mayor is well hidden. Where ever she sleeps at night, Stretch can't find her.

Neither do Stinkie or Fatso. 

Fleshies look different when they're sleeping. The Mayor probably wears a wig and puts her face on every morning.

He can always follow her home. Ruin her day like she ruined his.

Breaking out the doc is going to have to be the plan. Maybe give the lawyer a chance... 

What to do? The break out plan was meant to be the backup! He didn't think they would need it! He doesn't want to leave Whipstaff, it's his.

The sun is rising, and he wasted the entire night searching for this idiot Mayor when they could have been getting ready to leave.

____

Fatso is lazily floating through the air, he's tired. Stretch is on a low boil, and returning to report nothing doesn't appeal. 

He's being pulled towards Whipstaff, but the manor is empty, it's not home when he's alone.

It doesn't matter. He knows Stretch is going to think of something to send him away again. He hates when Stretch gets like this, it stopped being funny a couple of decades ago. 

Whatever Stretch is thinking about, he doesn't want to share, and that hurts. His brother doesn't trust him.

Everything is just... meh.

Go here, fetch that, go there, wreak this.

Stretch is sucking all the fun out of everything. Obsessing over every little detail. 

The Bakery smells so good...

Fatso tumbles in midair and changes direction, helping himself to a pumpkin and apple pastry. The staff don't even blink, just flipping a number on the counter as the pastry floats over to his favourite alcove. 

He munches away, slowly savouring the sweet treat. 

One of the staff slides a bucket under him, and leaves a tray of yesterday's cakes within reach.

He loves this Bakery. Sweet treats, no fuss, and his brothers know to avoid it.

It doesn't take long for the breakfast crowd to pick up, but Fatso is happy to just people watch. He's tired, and scaring the fleshies just feels like too much work.

He doesn't notice the Mayor walk in. He isn't really paying attention, the Bakery gets loud, and his eyes skip over her.

He notices when she sits down, a large cup of coffee in her hand and a slab of omelette on her plate. He didn't know the Bakery did omelettes. 

She's not the only one at her table, but it doesn't take Fatso long to realise they're meeting here instead of at City Hall. 

Stretch is going to be so mad, they didn't plan this well.

He should go get Stretch. 

Too much effort.

He doesn't recognize the man at the table, but he's getting glared at despite being invisible. 

He sinks into the wall, not in the mood for Fleshie nonsense. This is his Bakery. His safe haven.

Then the waitress proves why. The tray crashes on the table. "Leave Cookie alone. He's not harming anyone."

The glare turns to the Mayor. "You wanted to meet at a haunted bakery?"

"The McFadden's never come here, Cookie just eats cake and rearranges the condiment counter." The Mayor declared. "Doesn't he dear?" She addresses the waitress. 

The waitress gives the Mayor a measured look. "That's none of your business ma'am, we get along just fine." 

"So you see Gomez, nothing to worry about."

"You're the one plotting against our menaces Marta, just let the poor man go." 

"I'm just seizing the opportunity Crittenden gave us."

Fatso shivers in place. 

That's the problem with caring about fleshies, the world is a nasty place when it wants to be, and fleshies have so many problems. The doc was better off dead.

It wouldn't be that hard to arrange an accident. 

Meh. No. Maybe if... 

The road trip was still a good idea, it's been years since they had a proper holiday. Might be nice to have a change of scenery. 

"The DA isn't sending a replacement lawyer, we're going to have to use Johnson."

It's been a while since he saw the Grand Canyon, and those motor races look fun on the TV, possessing a Monster Truck is always fun, and there's that new TV chef's restaurant down in Louisiana...

"No sane man is ever going to agree with that."

Stretch would hate the aerospace museum, but Stinkie would cause a riot if they went past it. Might have to see if there were any old stream trains still running.

"I doubt the good Doctor has more than a passing fancy with sanity, but you know old Tommy boy could sell sand to a beach."

Maybe they could catch a ride on a rocket? Was NASA still sending things up? 

"How are you going to get their attention?"

Did they still do those sights of America maps? He needed to get one. He still has fond memories of their last yarn museum, tangling the shouty guard up like a fly in a spider web and making the spindles and spinning wheels creep towards him like a spider.

"Picnic on the roof of Town Hall?"

What sort of place would the doc like? 

"Marta, you are going to be the death of me."

He should probably tell Stretch. 

Meh. One more cookie first.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey has a conversation with his lawyer, and good coffee is smuggled into a police station.

Apparently being locked up and interrogated isn't good for his mental health. 

He wakes up and feels vaguely guilty about Stinkie. He was having a bad day, Stinkie was just trying to help.

One of these days he might consider being less surprised when one of the ghostly trio try to be helpful, he's pretty sure it's not going to be today.

The food is worse than expected, and he has some pretty low standards after being on the road for months.

Is it weird to miss Casper's cooking? 

They have the results of his blood tests back, and everyone is confused. Who knows what JT put in his little elixir, or what happened to it in the decades it spent in storage... 

James has to clench his hands and force those thoughts firmly away, he doesn't want to know, he can't explain, he doesn't want to think about it.

He will eventually want to see the results, but he supposes he can always ask the boys to lift them later. 

He hopes he gets a later.

He's probably going to have to apologise somehow to Stinkie. Either as his Doctor or his friend, and it's just too complicated to think about when he's drowning in grey, but it's a heavy lump in his chest dragging down everything else. 

He steps into another interview room, glancing at the mirror and tilting his head. He's too pale, the dark cycles under his eyes are sagging, and his hair looks greasy and uncared for. 

There's shadows behind the mirror. 

He's pretty sure he shouldn't be able to see them, so lets his eyes wander pass before sitting down at the table. 

The brick wall is back, this time with an older fellow, thin white hair, hunched over, in an old fashioned suit that's in a brown pinstripe pattern. His blue eyes seem to twinkle over the wire frame half moon glasses.

"Mr Harvey" the brick wall starts, only to get an elbow in the side. He coughs, "Doctor Harvey. This is Thomas Johnson, he's a lawyer and requested to represent you."

The elderly gentleman holds out a hand, "Call me Tom, I have a history with Mr Crittenden, the dead woman's father. When I heard what happened..." Tom grins.

Harvey stands to shake his hand, the world seeming to snap into focus at the weathered hand in his.

Oh. He's been disassociating. Not a good sign.

"You knew Miss Crittenden? Isn't that a..." he gestures, searching for the term. 

"Conflict of interest? I didn't know her, never did business with her, and the only information I have that isn't publicly available is the few mentions her father made when we were discussing the history of Whipstaff." 

Harvey nods. "So you're interested in the case?"

Tom has turned the handshake into a hold on his arm, "That I am, young man. Come, we'll discuss things with a bit more privacy."

Despite his age, Tom's grip is firm, it might look like he's leaning on Harvey for support, but instead Tom is leading him quite firmly through the corridors, the Brick wall is following them and glowering. 

Harvey finds himself amused when Tom claims an empty room, and shuts the door in Brick wall's face.

Tom dumps his briefcase on the table and gestures Harvey to sit.

"Now, I understand from your statement you went drinking with the McFadden brothers."

Harvey freezes, but Tom just continues settling up his papers. 

"And your blood test showed some very interesting elements." Tom gets a flask out of the briefcase, a pair of plastic cups, and the aroma of high end coffee fills the room. 

It tastes so much better than it smells, sweet and spicy. The bitterness disguised by cream and sugar, more desert than coffee. James would have been happy with something just to warm his hands, but the coffee is making everything feel warm.

The briefcase gets dumped on the floor, and Tom takes a seat, clicking his pen and writing something on the notepad in front of him. 

"Now, opinions are divided on who exactly drugged you Doctor, so my first question, did you knowingly take any drugs in the past week?"

"I... um... no?" Harvey answered. Someone drugged him? Wait, no, the elixir. It's all kind of fuzzy.

"You don't sound too sure of that." There's a raised eyebrow. 

"I got very drunk, very fast. I don't actually remember much that makes sense. I saw my dead wife." Please forgive me Amelia, "So my memories are a bit suspect."

There's a smirk. "So you saw the ghost of your wife while drinking with the entities that claim to be the ghosts of the McFadden brothers."

"I don't think I ever heard them call themselves that."

Another smirk, there's amusement dancing in his eyes, and James just feels so tired. He takes another sip of the coffee. Then stares at it in disappointment. It's all gone? 

"You're lucky you know, it could have been you." The lawyer pats his hand. James jerks back, he must be seriously touch starved, his hand is tingling. Tom's eyes seem so bright and blue. Like Casper's.

Where did his mug go? Is he losing time? 

"What could have been me?"

"The body in the morgue. The McFadden's are a bit careless of their toys. Putting that TV in the manor was a lifesaver."

Harvey stares. The ghostly trio are killers? But they... they killed him.

They're watching Kat.

No. They like him. It was an accident.

"I don't think anyone is going to charge you." Tom continues, "Accident death, happens all the time. They fell. No sign anyone pushed them. The unidentified body was extremely drunk, and Miss Crittenden was deranged."

"Can I go then?"

"There will be a pre-hearing tomorrow, basic review of the facts. Now before that happens, I want to know everything that happened from you first arriving at Whipstaff, and anything else you think is relevant."

He's tired, but begins his story again. Tom's a good listener, making all the right noises and his questions show real interest. James hasn't done anything wrong. Tom knows the trio, he's convinced it's their fault. James can't let that stand.

Tom listens. He smiles. He offers more coffee.

It's such a relief to have someone on his side.

And the coffee is fantastic.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deal is made. 
> 
> Stretch is very much not having fun at this point.

Stretch is watching City Hall, floating high above the town.

How dare she?

Some little nobody set up picnic tables and chairs, even putting out a table cloth, and loading it up with food.

He watches as the Mayor steps out on the roof, she scans the skyline as if trying to spot him. She's not going to. Fleshies only see what he wants them to see.

How dare steal from him?

He sort of recognizes the others joining her, they've been around Friendship for a while, he's pretty sure he's made them all scream and run away in terror more than once.

O'Reilly steps out on the roof. 

Stretch burns.

Like that is it?

Traitor. 

Never trust a fleshie. He didn't trust this one. He knows better than that. They had a deal. Just because they had a deal... everyone knows fleshies don't keep their word.

The doc is going to betray him too. He's not a ghost. He can't be trusted. He gave up being a ghost...

For his kid.

Which was stupid, you wouldn't catch Stretch giving up his ghostly existence for Casper. JT didn't. 

There's laughter at the picnic. 

Casper wouldn't ask him to. 

It would just be for a few measly decade, then it's back to haunting, and why would anyone want that?

Casper, sure, but Casper is...

A few more nights with the doc, and he might have stayed. 

Right, and JT is going to turn up on their doorstep and apologise. Next thing you know, demons will be needing ice skating lessons.

It's not fair! 

The doc is going to leave, he was always going to leave. 

But no one gets to take the doc away. 

"So, are we going down there?" Fatso pokes him. Stretch almost snaps, before grinning his nastiest grin.

"We're not. You are. Stay out of sight. Ruin the desert menu. Don't eat it, just make it taste awful. Understand?" Stretch shakes Fatso a little.

"Isn't that more Stinkie's thing?" Fatso points out, Stinkie making a sound of agreement. 

"I don't want them to know it was us. Stinkie's stink is too well known. So keep it on the downlow. Think you can do it Fatso?"

There's a slightly mournful look, but there always is when food's involved. "Got it." 

"Stinkie, you're on kitty Kat duty. Be ready to grab the girl, but make sure no one's watching her, and if they are, ruin their day."

Stinkie grins. "Got it Fearless. Going for the doc?"

Stretch grins at him "O'Reilly's at the party, no one else to worry about at the station. Prefect moment to steal the doc out from under their noses."

His brothers cheer at that. He wonders how far ahead they're thinking.

They'll be out of Friendship until the doc kicks it. Shouldn't take too long, a couple of decades? More than long enough to make sure the doc has some unfinished business. 

Stretch is pretty sure he can break another heart if he needs to. The doc's already attached.

But later. 

Stretch descends upon the Police station. 

The doc's not in his cell. Fine. 

Interrogation rooms are empty.

Offices? No.

Kitchen and dining area? Busy, but not a doc in sight.

Where's the doc?

Twice through the entire building, and no doc. 

O'Reilly's records are useless. Stretch leaves papers scattered everywhere.

Serves him right, traitor.

He checks the hiding places, finding O'Reilly's betting slips, and the alcohol stash. Stretch shatters a bottle of rum all over the papers. Good luck cleaning that up.

They left the crime room unguarded. Stretch grins as he overturns tables, tears down the pin board, and shreds every last photo.

Bulbs shatter easily. He pops them one by one, enjoying the crunch sound them make. Sparks like little fireworks. 

The fluorescent lights fizzle out. Not dramatic enough. 

He unlocks the cells, letting the three bums wander off. No point scaring them.

Where's the doc?

The toilets flood. The smell is almost worthy of Stinkie. 

Cracking the porcelain takes a bit more effort, but the sinks are left severely damaged if still standing. 

Oh look. The traitor. With the enemy. 

"McFadden. What the hell are you doing to my Police station?"

Fickle fleshie. 

"Where's the doc!?" Stretch growls. 

"Safe." The Mayor answers. "Safe from you and your kind." She rubs her nails on her suit jacket.

"Give him back." The walls are melting and she doesn't even glance at them.

"Now why should I do that?" Cool as cucumber. Has O'Reilly been giving lessons? 

"Because I'll tear this town down to the bedrock if you don't!"

"Oh goodie, a quick death rather than slow torture." She sounds amused, and doesn't even blink at his threats. 

"Give me back my doc!" Why is she doing this? The doc is his!

"A deal McFadden. O'Reilly here says you're good at keeping deals."

"O'Reilly is a traitor." Stretch hisses, as he sinks. A deal with the devil. Joy.

"Yes. Well. We will give you back your toy, and you agree never to bother the town again. No destruction. No drinking up all our spirits. No dropping in on our restaurants to steal a meal. You and yours stay out of town."

"The doc's innocent, you can't keep him." A toy? She thinks the doc is a toy to him? No. Damn it. If the doc's a toy to her...

"The loony bin won't care. I heard the asylum did a good job on your brother."

JT. If he had a heart, it would be sinking into his none existent boots. He can't let her see that, get angry.

He wants to kill her. How dare she use JT against him? 

The lights flicker.

How many ways can he ruin a man's life? The asylum would destroy Harvey, just like it did JT.

"Let the doc go, and me and my brothers will stay out of town as long as we have him, alive and well." Stretch meets the Mayor's eyes. Go on, fall for it.

"As long as you have him, dead or alive." The Mayor counters. Damn it. No Quart-dead.

"It doesn't count if he passes over." Stretch disagrees, he won't be left holding the body again, Whipstaff has enough hidden graves.

A raised eyebrow, "Don't take me for a fool, I know you have ways of making sure someone sticks around." Like he's going to use those on the doc. It doesn't count if you force them to stay.

"Might get bored of him." Stretch shrugs, "He is only a toy, after all." She looks surprised he echoed her. Two can play at this uncaring game, he has practice. 

"Alright then. Deal. You get your toy back, I get the town." She holds out her hand, not flinching as Stretch shakes it.

"Now where's the doc?"

She shrugged, "About" and grins at him, "I'll have him delivered to Whipstaff tomorrow."

Stretch nods, gives O'Reilly one last glare, and vanishes from fleshie sight.

The Mayor isn't fooled through, she doesn't say a word as she walks away. O'Reilly follows her like the traitorious dog he is. 

He's going to have to tell the boys, he thinks as he wanders out, only mildly amused at the attempts to clean up his trail of destruction. The doc is going to be mad. JT hates being dragged home. 

But first, he has a kid to knock some sense into.

What the hell is he doing? Casper knows better than to walk up to the front desk!

He grabs the kid and pulls him into the closet, what was he thinking? He scared the death out of him! 

He looms, if nothing else he's going to put the fear of Stretch into the kid. "What part of don't go in the police station was unclear!?"

Casper flickers for a moment, is he getting taller? before putting his hands on his hips, like the girl getting ready for a fight "Maybe the part where you never told me that! My Dad's in there, and I'm getting answers!"

JT. Stretch flinched. Damn it, not again. He doesn't need another reminder. Casper knows he's not meant to be here. But it doesn't matter much if the kid is lost in a memory. He spent too much time here, trying to get his dad out.

"No kid of mine is going to be buddy buddy with those blue bleeders." Stretch shakes him and Casper bears his teeth. 

"I'm not yours." He growls back at him, and Stretch freezes, furious brown eyes glaring at him and his hands tighten on the kid's shoulders. The words cuts just as deeply as the first time he said it.

No. This isn't right. He's mixing things up. Casper has blue eyes. He lets go, confused. Blue eyes. Like JT. He pets the kid on his head, memories of curls so real he can almost feel them.

He is seeing things. Feeling things. He needs out. He's not letting JT ruin everything again. 

"Stay out of the police station bulb head, it's for your own good."


	9. Chapter 9

So Cindy was terrible. 

The dinner was one of the most awkward meals Kat had ever sat down to. 

Casper had talked, had kept trying to draw Kat into the conversation. He didn't remember Cindy, but she didn't mind because she didn't remember him all that well either. (Kat suspected that was a lie, who sets an extra plate for dinner for their childhood ghost friend?)

The food was tasteless, she barely ate anything, just pretended to.

Her Dad was in jail and Casper was playing catch up.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." 

The bed had freshly laundered sheets, warm and soft, smelling vaguely floral.

It was probably the nicest bed she had slept in for a while.

She felt so guilty.

Her dad was in jail, and she was... staring at the vague shape on the ceiling trying to work out if it was meant to be a bird or cat or something else.

She didn't think she could fall asleep, but she opened her eyes to daylight. 

She stomach flipped. Did she have to go to school today? Her dad was in jail, didn't that mean she could miss a day? Could she afford to miss a day?

God, her homework was back at the manor. Was that a valid homework excuse? 

There were pancakes for breakfast. 

"Can I pick up some stuff?" Kat asked. "I didn't grab... anything."

"I'll give Jensen a call." Cindy said, "He can probably grab anything you need. He should have told you to pack a bag in the first place."

Kat nodded, taking a bite of the pancake. It wasn't terrible. Her stomach grumbled.

"What's going to happen with my Dad?"

Cindy blinked, a tiny frown crossing her face. "That depends."

"He's innocent." Kat stabbed her fork into the pancake.

"Yes Kathleen. But people in this town don't like what happens over at Whipstaff. If it goes to trial..." Cindy shrugged, "They might blame your Dad, even if this stuff has been going on for longer than he's been around."

"Oh." She wasn't hungry anymore. 

"Or they might let him out this afternoon." 

Kat frowned, "How likely is that?"

Cindy shrugged, "Depends on his lawyer and if anyone is going to post bail. If he's still in jail when you get out of school tomorrow, we'll visit, okay?"

"Thanks." Kat can't quite manage a smile, but it's a relief to know she'll see her Dad soon.

\---  
School is terrible. 

She practices her blank uncaring face.

Public opinion is that she threw an awesome Halloween party, it's all anyone is talking about. That they all ran screaming from Casper seems to have been glossed over. Special effects or a trick.

Amber is mostly pretending she doesn't exist, but Kat catches the occasional hateful glare. Any other time and Kat might glare back, but she doesn't have the energy. There's more important things than Amber.

More than one person asks how she did it. Quite a few of them want to giggle over Amber and Vic's prank failure.

A few ask if she really danced with a ghost. They whisper, as if afraid Casper might hear. 

She smiles, the motion making her chest feel cold, and tells them that's her secret.

Her Dad is in jail, and nobody cares.

She can't decide if it's good nobody knows, or if she's going to start screaming the news so they just leave her alone.

It wouldn't work, it would just be something new to gossip about.

She can't focus on her classes, but none of the teachers call on her. She tried to list questions she wants to ask, but just thinking about the situation makes her mind go blank. 

She needs a plan. She needs to do something.

Casper, if he's about, stays invisible, but there's an extra pudding cup in her bag when she goes to eat lunch. 

It makes her eyes burn, she doesn't know why, but there's no where to hide and plenty of kids wanting her at their table, so she grabs lunch and the conversation washes over her.

She's thankful that they just let her sit and eat her lunch, it doesn't feel like they're excluding her, just letting her have a bit of space.

She's spent ages pretending that nothing is wrong, is this any different? The mask feels a lot heavier now, it's an effort to pretend to smile and she can't laugh. 

She hesitates at the school gates, or she would if the crowd didn't carry her along. 

She could go home. But it wouldn't be home without her Dad. 

She doesn't want to deal with the ghostly trio on her own anyway. She spent the entire day faking being okay, she just doesn't have the energy. She can't even begin to imagine how they are going to react.

Cold indifference might break her.

Cindy's in kitchen, Kat grabs a drink out the fridge and heads to her room. 

There's a ghost on her bed.

"You." She growls, as Stinkie waves at her. He doesn't even bothered to get up or look at her.

"Hey kitty Kat"

"Get off my bed." She growls, dumping her bag on his stomach. 

"Hey!" He rolls over, floating up a bit, but not actually leaving. The bag settles on her bed, but at least the smelly bastard is off her sheets.

"What do you want?" She demands, she can't deal with any nonsense, not after this weekend, not after a day of pretending to be fine.

"Aye aye aye, you and your dad, kitty Kat." Stinkie rolls his eyes, the ridiculous accent just irritating her more. 

She is not going to scream. She won't. He wants her to scream.

"I'm just here to check you're on board with the plan Kitty Kat."

She drops into the chair by her desk. "What plan?"

"To get the doc out of the joint." Stinkie gives her the evil eye, "You do want that, right?"

"You have a plan?" Heavy disbelief dripping from every word.

"Of course we have a plan! We always have a plan. Anyway, the doc doesn't like the idea of breaking out. He thinks if he does that, he'll lose you. We figure that if it all goes down the toilet, you won't be getting your Dad back unless we grab him."

Kat tapped her fingers against the desk, "Can we try something else first? I'm tired of moving around."

That gets her a look she doesn't recognize. "You want to stay at Whipstaff?" It looks alien on Stinkie's face, not that she's any good at reading him.

Does she want to stay? She likes Casper, he's weird but he cares. Her dad seems invested. The kids at her school mostly think she's cool, she might have a chance to make real friends. The trio...? "Why do you care what I want?"

Stinkie rolls his eyes. "Escaping the cops is easier if you have everyone on the same page."

She twists the chair back and forth as she thinks. "I want to stay with my Dad. Whipstaff's okay, for what it is."

Stinkie grins at her. That doesn't get any less creepy. 

"Right." He draws out the word, "So Stretch is pulling a few strings, we're mucking up the evidence, and your Dad is behaving himself."

"But Dad is innocent."

"They don't care."

"They said this was temporary." She gestured to her room.

"It's easy to sell a lie if you tell the truth. Come on kid, it's the cops, you don't trust the cops!"

"Why should I trust you?" Kat shouts, swiping at the wetness on her face. Why is she crying? She's too tough to be crying! 

Stinkie grins at her again, "Who said you should?" He crackles as he flies off, and Kat is left alone again, just the lingering smell of rotten eggs to remind her of her visitor.

There's only one thing to do.

"Cindy? I'm going out."

The police station is only a short walk away. 

She's going to get some answers. 

\---  
She gets almost as far as the front desk when she's yanked off to the side and tossed in a cupboard. 

Angry purple eyes glare at her. "What part of don't go in the police station was unclear to you!?"

Kat puts her hands on her hips, "Maybe the part where you never told me that! My Dad's in there, and I'm getting answers!"

"No kid of mine is going to be buddy buddy with those blue bleeders." Stretch shakes her, and Kat grits her teeth.

"I'm not yours." She growls right back at him, and for a moment all she can see is furious purple eyes, and feel his hands tightening on her shoulders. 

Then there's a flash of uncertainty. He lets go, drops her, pets her hair absently. 

She's going to tell her dad about this. First Stinkie, now Stretch? These ghosts are just weird.

"Stay out of the police station bulb head, it's for your own good." And he's gone.

She wants to sink to the floor, her knees are a bit shaky. It hits her hard. He thought she was Casper.

How could he think she was Casper? 

Wait, did Casper ever get petted on the head? All she seen so far was the trio being horrible to him, winding him up, teasing him, ordering him about, forcing him into uncomfortable looking shapes.

Maybe she's wrong.

But she seriously doubts that.


	10. Chapter 10

Tuesday's breakfast is a tastier affair, although he's not sure if it's because his appetite has returned after the hangover, the friendly company, or that Tom just knows the best deli in the town. He's pretty sure his lawyer isn't meant to be feeding him, but he's not going to complain. 

The choice between burnt tasteless porridge and several freshly baked pastries is no choice at all as far as he's concerned. 

Either way, he's feeling a lot better about things as he goes into the private meeting, knowing someone is in his corner, and actually believes him.

That he managed to borrowed a comb to straighten his mess of hair helps, or maybe it's just the warm coffee in his hands. It's probably the coffee. He's going to get the name of Tom's supplier, and the recipe. There's definitely something spicy in it.

Then he gets introduced to the Major.

Amelia would be laughing at him. He feels like he's coated in grime, still wearing travel stained clothes, he hasn't shaved in days...

She's a steely haired woman, who's probably someone's grandmother, judging by the brightly coloured mug in front of her seat with a childish painting of an owl, a bright blue pant suit and bedecked in pearls. She looks like she's ready to cut a ribbon or host a charity dinner.

"No worries Jimmy, Marta's a dear." Tom whispers, squeezing his arm.

"So this is the Doctor stirring up old troubles." She exclaimed loudly, shaking his hand.

It's not just the mayor. Next is a Judge, a stubborn looking man chewing on his pen as he reads the local newspaper. Tom calls him Gomez, and the judge gives him a tired look. His clothes look slightly more casual, the tweed jacket is threadbare at the elbows.

Then the secretary, a honey blond cut in a severe bob, and in a grey dress suit. The mayor introduces her as Sophia, and they all sit down around the table.

James tries to dispel the feeling he's been called to the headmistress office, as they all stare at him. Except the judge, he hasn't put down his newspaper yet. He's not sure being ignored is better.

"Now, Doctor Harvey. I understand you have been living at Whipstaff manor with your daughter?" The Mayor asks.

"Yes your honour." Harvey replies, and she chuckles at him.

"Don't worry about the formalities Doctor, we're all friends here." He feels like he's stepped into a private country club, but sure, he can pretend. 

He nods, "James then." Tom squeezes his knee, sitting so close that Harvey can feel the warmth coming off the man.

"I've been given to understand that our terrible trio considers you a friend." She looks meaningful at Tom, and James wonders at their history. There's something in that look...

"Yes." He nods slowly "Not at first, it took a while for them to warm up to me, but I think they've decided to like me."

"And our little psychopomp?" Marta asked, leaning forward. She's careful not to look at Tom, but he thinks there's an eagerness in her eyes. 

"Psychopomp?" Harvey echoes, "You mean Casper?"

Marta flicks the name away, "The young seeming one." Doctor Harvey files that away for later, why the interest in Casper? Why disregard his name? 

"He's very fond of Kat. My daughter. I think he has a crush."

"Ah." She leans back and looks around the table. Again her eyes skim over Tom, and there's a thump from under the table.

The judge flinched, and she gestures at him. Did she just...?

What is Friendship? Haunted mansion, crazy construction work everywhere, and a Mayor who is quite willing to kick a judge under the table if he misses his cue.

"I hope you understand young man, you have made yourself a person of interest." The newspaper gets ruffled as the judge puts it aside. "Removing you from the Manor is likely to cause a disturbance."

"That depends on if he wants to leave Gomez." The Mayor points out, "And if he does, we will just have to deal." 

"Well, who wouldn't? It's not right, having those nuisances in your business all the time." Gomez proclaims, banging his hand on the table. 

"I don't mind." Harvey said quickly, "I might even be able to get them to move on."

That gets more stares. He's quite familiar with those looks. They speak loud and clear even when no one voices the words 'Are you crazy?'

Harvey can't help wanting to sink into his chair, but Tom is nodding. "Nothing we've tried has worked, but then they don't consider us friends."

The judge humps, "what's one more life into the meat grinder?" He asks the ceiling.

"They're not that bad." Harvey defends the trio, sure they're rude and messy, but...

"Well, if you're willing, Doctor Harvey." The mayor says, "but do take some time to think about it. We might not be able to do much, but there's ways of distracting them if you need a break."

"What about Crittenden? Who owns the manor now?"

Tom pats his knee, "Don't you worry about that, we'll sort something. Might even get you a stipend out the town's accounts"

The mayor rolls her eyes, "Fine TJ, I'll earmark some funds from the repairs budget. I'm sure preventive measures count."

There's a round of goodbyes, and James is in a daze as he leaves the room. He's not entirely sure what just happened. 

Did he just jump into the fire to avoid the frying pan?

"Come on Jim. You look like you need a drink and a quiet 5 minutes. No point dragging your girl out of school."

He doesn't protest as he gets in the car. Tom straps him in. His hands are shaking.

The journey blurs, he doesn't know where Tom takes him, but he doesn't know Friendship at all.

There's a comfy chair, a glass of scotch in his hand.

"Drink up Jimbo."

He downs the shot. 

It tastes wrong.

Everything goes black.


End file.
